


Finding Time

by MustardGal



Series: Lavender and Daggers [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MustardGal/pseuds/MustardGal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian and the Levallen Inquisitor return to Skyhold after months of traveling, and try to find some alone time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Time

It was silent, save for the snow crunching underneath everyone’s boots.  Night had fallen some hours ago, covering the bleak snowy landscape in pitch black.  The stars and moon were hidden behind the clouds, which disappointed the Inquisitor some.  The Inquisitor Kievon had been excited to see the full moon that night, but the sudden snowstorm had all but stopped that wish. 

                His legs and back were aching as he sat on his dracolisk, his long cloak tucked in tightly around him. Leliana’s scout in front of him held a torch high enough to illuminate the path before them, making it a bit easier to see despite the falling snow.  Behind him followed all of his companions, wrapped in large cloaks of their own, their breaths visible against the frigid air.  There was one thing in common with all of them: they smelled. 

                They were making their way across Orlais, across the deserts and the never ending forests and hills.  Village after village, they continued on their way to make a long pit stop at Skyhold where the three advisors were waiting.  The Inquisition had been months in the building and their Inquisition party was well known, but they had been gone far too long from Skyhold.  Their clothing needed mending, their swords needed updating, and better yet, their heads needed a soft pillow.

                The Inquisitor was especially looking forward to his soft bed.  He had been receiving messages from Josephine about the construction of Skyhold.  It was well on its way to being fully repaired, and he was more than ready to see the place.  It had been his home away from home all these months, and he wanted it to feel the same for others.

                The party had decided to continue into the night in order to reach home.  Everyone had fallen asleep in their saddle at one point, especially Sera, but they would continue as long as their mounts could handle it.  The horses, dracolisk, and harts were best of the stock, all gifts to the purpose of the Inquisition.

                Dorian pulled his horse beside him, his hood shadowing most of his face.  “You look like you’re about to fall off, Kievon.”

                Kievon blinked and straightened, not realizing he had been slowly slipping off the saddle, lost in his thoughts.  “We can’t have that, can we.”

                “No.  What would we say if we had the Inquisitor fall off his mighty steed?  He fell asleep?  The truth isn’t rather… heroic.”

                Kievon shrugged.  “Skyhold is just around the corner.  We’re almost home.”

                “And thank the Maker for that,” Dorian sighed.  “I can’t wait to be covered in layers of fur blankets.”

                “And you aren’t already?”

                Dorian patted his fur lined cloak.  “These are nice, but considering I’d rather be rolling around naked underneath this instead with a roaring fire not too far away…”

                “We can arrange that,” Kievon grinned at him.  _If I can make it up the stairs without falling asleep_ , he thought to himself.

                Sure enough, they climbed up the snowy path and Skyhold loomed in the distance, large fires illuminating the fortress in an orange light against the night.  Hundreds of tents of the recruited soldiers were pitched out and about the outside of Skyhold.  Men saluted the party as they passed, their mounts galloping even faster at the sight of home.

                Sera had woken up in her saddle and went ahead of Kievon, a wicked grin across her features.  “I can practically hear my bed calling for me!” 

                The large, wooden doors parted for them and soldiers called out their greetings as the party passed through. They rode into the courtyard, heading to the back of the fortress to the stables.  The snow had been cleared away and piled high against the walls.  Stable boys waited anxiously to take their mounts. 

                Kievon hopped off his dracolisk and handed the reigns to a younger boy – who had probably never seen a dracolisk – and gave a little bow with his head.  “Take good care of him.”

                “Yes, Inquisitor!”

                “We accomplished many great things this last journey,” Cassandra said, flicking off her hood and dusting off the snow once her horse was taken from her.  “We shall discuss this tomorrow, Inquisitor.  There is still much to do.”  She gave a quick nod with her head and headed off to her quarters.

                “Always business with you, isn’t it Cassandra?” Iron Bull huffed after her.  “Me?  I’m off to get a drink.  Or two.  Who’s with me?”

                “Count me in,” Varric said, slinking his crossbow over his shoulder.  “Meet you there in ten.”  He waved a hand to Cole, who followed him without a word.  Sera, suddenly fully awake, managed a giggle and headed to her room above the tavern. 

                “I’ll make sure the horses get put away properly,” Blackwall said.  He brushed off the layer of snow in his beard.  “You go ahead, Inquisitor.”

                Kievon nodded, following Solas and Vivenne silently into the depths of Skyhold with Dorian at his heels.  He dusted the snow from his shoulder and pulled off his hood, running a hand through his greasy hair.  He was rank.  Dorian was rank.  Everything was rank. 

                Traveling for a month or two at a time would do that to a person. He hadn’t had a proper bath in forever.  Dorian even had a bit of stubble across his cheeks, having given up shaving the past few days.  A month ago, Dorian would have scoffed about not being properly clean, and now here he was, unkempt like everyone else.

                Kievon waved good night to Solas and Vivenne, barely taking notices of the changes around him.  There were new carpets, drapes, even new windows.  The scaffolds were gone.  Even the throne had changed, which he passed by on the way to his quarters.

                “You’re being oddly quiet tonight,” Dorian remarked once they stood in front of the Inquisitor’s quarters.  “Do you want me to leave?  I’d hate to go, but if you need me to…”

                “No, please stay,” Kievon said, hating that he forced a smile.  He was tired.  Oh so tired.  How come nobody else was as tired as him?  His legs were trembling as he opened the door, letting Dorian shut it behind him.  He guided his feet to the stairs and slowly climbed, reaching out a hand against the wall to guide him up.

                He hadn’t realized how bad he felt.  The room was warm, prepped for his arrival, but it did nothing for him.  His body felt cold, and he was full out shaking now.

                “Kievon?” Dorian said.  Kievon stumbled, and Dorian caught him with surprise.  “Are you quite alright?”

                Kievon muttered something, but let himself be dragged up the stairs.  Dorian finally dropped his bag and scooped him up, moving quickly to the bed. 

                “I’m fine,” Kievon huffed, shrugging off his cloak.  “Just a little weary.”

                “That’s it, Kievon.  You’re taking a break from being Inquisitor.”

                “But…”

                “No buts.”  Dorian put a finger on Kievon’s lips and smiled slightly.

Kievon noticed there were bags underneath his eyes.  The Tevinter mage was just as tired as him, but had more willpower at the moment. 

Dorian brushed a hand through Kievon’s long hair and put it behind his pointed ear.  “It’s time to get you to rest, _amatus_.” Ever so slowly Dorian helped peel him out of his clothes, biting his lip at the frailness of the Inquisitor.  As an elf, Kievon was already slight in stature, but he was ever so skinny, more so than he should be. He took off the leather jacket and untied Kievon’s shirt, lightly tugging it off. 

                The sight of Kievon’s frail body caught Dorian by surprise.  It hadn’t been so long since he’d seen his partner’s body, but… his ribs peeked more so through his skin, his collarbones were much more pronounced.  “Kievon, you’re… not eating.  Are you?”

                “You’ve seen me eat, Dorian.  We have the same meals, share the same food.”  Kievon struggled to pull on his long night shirt. 

                “Kievon,” Dorian said more sternly.

                “Not tonight.  Another discussion for another night.”  Kievon stood and started unbuckling Dorian’s large cloak.

                “I can do this myself.” Dorian took his lover’s hands in his.  “Go to bed.  I’ll be in soon.”  He brushed Kievon’s long red hair aside once more, then leaned into to kiss him on his tattooed cheek.  “Rest.”

                “Fine.”  Kievon climbed into bed, pulling the thick covers over him and practically losing himself in the covers.  “Join me when you see fit, Dorian.”

                Dorian sighed. Their relationship was still in the beginning stages.  Dorian didn’t know what to do past a certain stage, and he happened to be past that.  He didn’t know whether to leave him or be with him.

                He loved the Inquisitor, that much he knew.  But the Inquisitor – goofball that he was – was turning distant as the threat grew ever larger.  It had been Kievon’s determination and quick wit that had drawn Dorian to him, and now that they were faced with greater threats that could very well throw the world into chaos, the two of them didn’t know how to act. 

                Dorian was afraid of losing him.  The past month in the desert, working together with all the companions in a team had been fun, but hard. They were all away from home, and Kievon had mentioned how much he missed his clan.  Dorian couldn’t do anything about that.

                With a sigh, Dorian undressed, slinking out of his cloak and his leathers.  They were soaked in dried sweat and smelled like no other – he would have to invest in another leather garment.  He dropped his clothing right next to Kievon’s.  Fully naked and covered in grime he didn’t want to think about, he climbed into the covers and nestled behind Kievon.

                Kievon mumbled and snuggled in closer to him.  “You’re warm,” he muttered.

                Dorian nuzzled closer, wrapping his arms around him and kissed the back of his neck.  “I knew I could help in some way.  Are you feeling any better?”

                “I’m not dizzy.  Lying down is helping in that department, but I’m so sore. And tired.”

                “Then let us try to sleep.”

                “Do you think I could?”

                “Could what?”

                “Not be Inquisitor for a day?”

                “Oh, _amatus_.  You could choose not to be Inquisitor for a week or a month.  You’d just have to watch out for Cassandra breathing down your neck.”

                “Even a day?”

                Dorian hugged him closer to him.  “Tomorrow can just be yours.”

                “Ours.  I’d like it to be ours.”

                Dorian’s heart thumped, all too happy.  “Ours, then.”

* * *

 

                It was late in the morning when Dorian awoke, with the sun nearly blinding him.  He laid in bed for a couple minutes, content at lying next to Kievon, then decided he couldn’t stand the smell of the two of them anymore.  He took a step out of bed and nearly cringed at the cold air.  The fire had died down over night and he grabbed a few more logs to set on it, snapping his fingers with a bit of fire magic to get it started.

                Baths. They needed baths.  If there was one thing Dorian missed from Tevinter, it was the luxurious baths.  Here in Ferelden, you got a bucket and called it good.  You were lucky if you could actually sit down and have a warm bath.  Dorian had made sure to invest in a rather large basin and it had been placed in Kievon’s room ever since. 

                Another thing Tevintor had was slaves – slaves who had been more than happy to get bath water for him.  Or so Dorian had thought.  Ever since meeting Kievon and getting lectured and humbled about having slaves, he began to rethink his whole life.  Slaves had always been there to wait on him hand and foot; now, there wasn’t anyone.  And apparently that was how it should be.

                So Dorian went to work, throwing on a heavy silk robe and grabbing a bucket on his way out to the well.  There were hired servants in Skyhold who helped in the kitchens, and he made sure to grab one to help him cart up water to the Inquisitor’s room.  A few trips with him, they had filled the basin within a matter of minutes.

                Cassandra stood in the Skyhold throne room, raising an eyebrow at Dorian’s robe and pink slippers, but didn’t say anything.

                Dorian thanked the servant for helping him with the water and winked at Cassandra.  “No Inquisitor today.  I’m afraid he’s going to be a bit occupied today.”

                “With what?  Cullen’s expecting a full report…”

                “With me!  What else?”

                “But…”

                “Honestly, Cassandra.  The Inquisitor needs a break.  Give him this one.” Dorian eyed her sternly, then headed off to the quarters.  After ascending the stairs he saw the Inquisitor standing beside the bed, doing several stretches.  “Ah! I see you’re up.  I have a bath prepared for you.”  He grabbed Kievon by the hand and pulled him to the backroom with the basin.  He put one hand partially in the water, using his fire magic to warm the water up to the proper temperature.

                “And here I’d just gotten used to the smell of you.”  Kievon grinned.

                “Please tell me you prefer me when I smell of vanilla and jasmine.  I don’t know how much longer I can handle this dirt and horse smell that seems to cling to me.  And to you.”

                Kievon chuckled.  “I suppose you’re right.”  He slipped off his large shirt and climbed into the bath, instantly ducking his head under.  Once he emerged he looked up to Dorian, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes.  “Aren’t you going to join me?”

                “I’d thought you’d never ask.”

                Together the two of them bathed in silence, slowly washing each other as they went.  There was nothing sexual about it, Dorian realized.  Despite their nakedness and the closeness, the two of them were bone-weary and exhausted, even after a long nights sleep.  Dorian scrubbed the last bit of dirt away from Kievon’s back, who then turned around and placed a soft kiss against his lips. 

                “Thank you for this, Dorian.  But I’m afraid you smell better in lavender than vanilla.”

                “Then I’ll be sure to use this soap more often.”

                Kievon placed his hand on Dorian’s cheek, running his thumb across Dorian’s mustache and stubble.  “I suppose you need to shave.”

                “I do like my mustache.” Dorian stroked his chin.  “It’s been awhile since I’ve let it grown out this far.”

                “Still so odd.”

                “You like me just because of my mustache.” Dorian leaned in close and rubbed his chin against Kievon’s face.  “You beardless elf you.”

                “Oh, there’s other parts that I quite like a little bit more,” Kievon grinned slyly.  “But honestly.  I just want to talk.  We’re alone, we’re together, and we have all the time in the world.  For today, at least.”

                “I’d like that,” Dorian said after a moment’s pause.  “But may I suggest getting out of the bath?  The cold water, and all that.  It doesn’t leave much to be impressed.”

                “Let us get dressed.” Kievon stood and stepped out of the bath, wringing his long hair over the basin. 

                Dorian admired the naked body of his lover before he stepped out, inwardly cringing on how thin Kievon was.  One of his goals was to get him to eat – he would have the kitchens send up a feast. 

                Together they dressed into their robes and slippers.  Dorian took a few minutes to shave off his stubble and trim his mustache while Kievon took some scissors and shaved off the overgrown part of his hair.  He kept his hair shaved on one side and let it grow on the other – when Dorian had first met him, it had been to his chin, but now his hair was creeping past his shoulders. 

                He had to admit he liked the long hair on Kievon.  It made him look rather dashing.  The two of them made quite the fabulous pair – impressions were the first thing that mattered, after all, and Kievon was not afraid about being fashion forward.  Another quality he shared with Dorian.

                Dorian sat on the bed, his robe loosely tied around his waist.  As he watched his lover shave his hair, a sudden question popped up in his head.  “We’ve been together for quite some time, Kievon, but I have never asked you… how old are you?

                That question made Kievon pause in his cutting, then he continued on with one last snip and turned to face Dorian, a cringe on his face. 

                “Oh come on, you can’t be that old,” Dorian grinned.

                “I’m afraid I can be,” Kievon muttered.  “I’m thirty-six.”

                “You’re… thirty-six?” Dorian raised an eyebrow.  He hadn’t expected that – Kievon looked to be his age.  Slight crinkles around the eyes and mouth.  An old scar crossed his nose and onto his mouth.  But nothing to indicate he was thirty-six.

                “Am I too old?”

                “No! Heavens, no.  Just ten years older than me, that’s all.”  He motioned for Kievon to come closer, who did after a moment’s hesitation.  He took his hands and wrapped his legs around Kievon’s.  “There’s just a lot I don’t know about you. We’ve been through thick and thin… we just haven’t had time to get to know each other.  I’m new to this whole relationship deal, and I want to do this right.”

                “Mm.” Kievon absently played with the end of his mustache.  “You know I’m Dalish.  I hadn’t really been around humans since this whole fiasco started.”

                “But what did you do before?  While in your clan?”

                “I traveled around – you know I have a knack for herbology.  I gathered all sort of different herbs for my clan, and I hunted.  I would go for weeks on trips.”

                “By yourself?”

                “Er, no.  No, not by myself.”

                “With who?”     

                Kievon bit his lip and looked away.  “With my husband, Arrith.”

                “Ah.” Dorian didn’t know how he felt about that.  “I suppose you did have a life before me.  May I ask… why you aren’t together anymore?”

                “We ventured too far south and encountered Darkspawn.  He got the Blight and passed away soon after.”

                “This was more than a few years ago, then.”

                “Yes.  After that, I stuck close around my clan.  Did what I could, until I was sent to the conclave.  And here I am.”

                “And here you are.”  Dorian pulled Kievon down beside him, keeping his hands still in his.  “Did you love him?”

                “I did.  We were to spend our lives together, but that did not come to be.  Instead, this is my life now.  I met you.  A human, at that.  I’ve learned there’s more out there than I realized, and there’s a whole lot depending on me now.”

                “There’s that.”

                “I couldn’t have made it this far without you, Dorian.” 

                “We’ve been to the future and back,” Dorian grinned.  “Where would you be now without me?”

                “Quite lost, and possibly dead.”

                “Thank heavens I am here, then!” Dorian leaned in, placing a kiss against his lips.  “Now, I don’t know about you, but I am positively starving.  I shall go to the kitchens and have food brought up.”

                “We could just go to the kitchen and eat.”

                “Now, now.  This is your day, and you know the moment you step out of the room, someone will hound you with responsibilities, and you’re a sucker for responsibilities.  Me? I can handle saying no.  Now stay put, I’ll be back with some food to put some fat in that skinny frame of yours.”

                Once again dressed in his silk robe and pink slippers, Dorian strutted proudly through the halls of Skyhold.  People knew of his relationship with the Inquisitor and he wasn’t trying to hide anything.  He went to head cook and grabbed a tray full of bread, eggs, sausage, and heaps of potatoes.  Making sure to thank the head cook – another thing Kievon has taught him to do – he headed back to his room, making sure to wink at Cassandra if he saw her, knowing she was a little peeved he was hogging the Inquisitor’s attention.

                Honestly during this whole time he kept thinking back to the fact Kievon had had a relationship before, and a husband at that.  Kievon was ten years older than him, which meant he was wiser and knew much of the world.  Not of the human world, but of the world in general.  It was one of the reasons Dorian considered him to be such a great Inquisitor.  A wise Inquisitor was a successful Inquisitor. 

                Wise, suave, and dashing.  Could the Inquisitor appeal to him anymore?  He thought not.

                He found the door open to the quarters and with a resigned huff he ran up the stairs, being careful to not spill the two glasses of milk on the tray.  “Josephine!” He called out once he saw who was in the room.  Kievon stood at his desk, arms crossed and a dark look on his face. 

                “I told you, today is his day off-”

                “This couldn’t wait,” Josephine sighed, holding up a piece of paper.  “We finally have our invitations to the Winter Palace.  We are to leave by tomorrow if we wish to make it in time.  We have decisions to make, Inquisitor, and we cannot wait.”

                “I understand.  Give me an hour, and I’ll meet you in the war room then,” Kievon confirmed.

                Dorian fumed silently as Josephine left, an apologetic expression on her face.  He set the tray on the desk with a thunk, the milk splashing but not spilling. 

                “I’m sorry, Dorian, but our day will have to wait.”

                Dorian let out an exasperated sigh.  “I look forward to the day when I won’t have to share you.”

                Kievon moved to his closet and pulled out his long under armor clothing, slipping out of his robe and into the form fitting pants.

                “Please, eat, before you go,” Dorian pleaded in a light voice.  “You nearly passed out last night.  You need the energy.”

                Kievon buttoned up his shirt and flicked his hair back.  His Inquisitor expression, a stern, dark look, had replaced his smiling face.  He grabbed a piece of sausage and nibbled on it, then grabbed another.  “I’ll eat on the go,” he said, then leaned up to kiss Dorian on the cheek.  “Be here tonight, please.  I want to be with you.”

                Dorian pressed his forehead against his, and nodded once.  With one last kiss Kievon headed down the stairs, leaving Dorian alone with a plate full of steaming food. 

                “I want to be with you, too,” Dorian whispered to himself.  “I just don’t know how.”

                With a sigh, he grabbed the food and headed for his spot in the small library, prepared to spend another full day alone.

                

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
